Page 46 of Sold Bullied Mate

And somehow, I have never been as furious as I am with him now.

“I’ll need a key to the house,” I say, which clearly takes him by surprise. He blinks, looks at the front door as though it might offer answers, then looks back at me.

“What? Why?”

I cross my arms over my chest, hate how the flick of his eyes down there makes me warm.

“The farmer’s market is tomorrow.” I take a step back from him, aware of how my body is reacting. I want nothing to do with these feelings of attraction. “And I’m going.”

His response is faster than I thought. “No, you’re not.”

“Excuseme?” The words are so quiet, they come out somewhere between a whisper and a hiss. “Am I your prisoner, Dorian?”

He winces, showing emotion for the first time in this conversation. Muttering something under his breath, he turns around, sighs, and looks back at me.

“Of course not, Kira. It’s just … not safe for you right now.”

I hold his stare, humiliated tears streaking down my cheeks. “Why? What is the danger?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Well, then the only thing that makes sense is that thereisno danger,” I spit, shaking with hurt and anger, and hating how those two things together are making me cry. “And you’reashamedof me, Dorian. You don’t want to let me leave because you don’t want anyone—”

A sudden wave of dizziness rolls over me, and the words suck right out of my mouth. I sob and bring a fist to my lips, trying to quell the nausea that follows right after the lightheaded rush.

“That isnotit,” Dorian says, taking a step toward me, reaching up like he might touch me, but decides not to. As the pain increases, his words sound like they’re coming to me through the ocean, distant and warbled, muffled by the sudden cotton in my ears.

I can’t respond. I can’t do anything but succumb to the premonition taking over my body. This time, it’s less like something I’m reaching for and more like a bucket of ice water that’s been tossed over me, freezing my muscles and scrambling my ability to think.

“Kira?”

Dorian’s body tilts in my vision, and then I realize I’m staggering back, sitting down hard on the couch. My breathing comes quick, my skin prickling, every inch of me feeling raw and open in the worst way, like a single touch could stop my heart, bring all the delicate systems of my body crumbling to pieces.

“Kira—”

“Don’t touch me,” I manage, and then, as though possessed by a demon, the next words out of my mouth don’t belong to me. They force their way out, like a violent, hacking sick: “Don’t worry. I’ve got you, baby girl.”

Dorian hovers close, apparently not bothered by the way words are coming out of my body, unbidden. It doesn’t even sound like my own voice, and it doesn’t feel like anything I’veever experienced before, and my mind races through everything Beth told me about my abilities.

Hearing the future, hearing the past. And also hearing from the spirits. Benevolent and evil, those who would guide, and those who would lead you astray.

My breathing is coming fast. The approach was violent, but I feel the spirit around me, cradling, soft. Guiding. A gentle warning provided in a violent sense.

Maybe if I had more experience receiving messages like this, it would have gone differently. I sink into the feeling, the swirling, inky black abyss, letting my mind blink off for a few seconds, a tiny reprieve from the onslaught of feelings and sounds.

When I wake, it’s with Dorian’s hands clamped on either shoulder, his eyes boring into mine.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes, when my eyes flutter open. He moves like he might drop his head into my chest, but I push weakly against him, and he lets me go. I’m shaking like a leaf, barely able to get to my feet, but giving a wide berth to the hand he offers, the assistance he clearly wants to give me.

“Don’t,” I say, raising my eyes to him. “Unless you’re going to give me a key to the house?”

It’s not about the key—it’s about Dorian making this public. Claiming me as his own. Which he so clearly doesn’t want to do.

“Kira,” he says, the word broken, and I turn away, ignoring the pounding in my head and the tears running down my face. When I reach the upstairs landing, I don’t think twice—I turn left and walk into the guest room,myroom, no matterhow badly my body craves the touch of sleeping with Dorian tonight.

Chapter 29 - Dorian

The slam of Kira’s door echoes throughout the house, and I know I have to walk out of the door, or I’ll go after her. Fall to me knees, beg for her forgiveness. Anything so she’ll never look at me the way she just did.

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